


and so shall the stars that litter your skin, taste like the skies beneath my tongue

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Allusions to Insomnia, Freckles, M/M, Self-Worth Issues, Vulnerable Jim, body image issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based somewhat on this post;</p><p> </p><p>  <strong>thecaptainschairncc1701:</strong></p><p> </p><p>  <strong>Imagine Jim having freckles (face, back, etc) and Bones ends up taking a liking to them and Jim getting incredibly self-conscious about them especially when Bones tells him to stop covering up the ones on his face because he didn’t think he would notice.</strong></p><p> </p><p>  <em>"It’s okay, darlin’," Len whispers against the sharp shoulder blade, right over a cluster of freckles that paint Jim’s skin like the stars paint the night sky. </em></p><p> </p><p>  <em>It’s not very often Len can see Jim’s freckles, for such a confident man, Jim is surprisingly shy about his body outside of sex, and Jim had once confided into him that others had found the freckles ugly because of how many there was and how they were clustered, like constellations against the space of Jim’s skin. Len thought they were beautiful. </em></p><p> </p><p>  <em>"You should stop covering these up, Jimmy," He murmurs lowly into the pale flesh, flicking his tongue over the freckles and he feels when Jim realizes what he’s doing.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	and so shall the stars that litter your skin, taste like the skies beneath my tongue

**_and so shall the stars that litter your skin_ **

**_taste like the skies beneath my tongue_ **

 

He runs his fingers down the slender back, feeling the shiver of the skin beneath them and he smothers his smile in the sunlight that guides his hand.

Jim stirs slowly beneath his ministrations, and he props himself up on his elbows, feathering his fingertips down the slope of the sensual back, the covers having fell off of Jim sometime during the night, pooling around his slim hips that give Len free reign of his naked torso.

He curls his fingers slowly around the large dip in the small of Jims back, and Jim snuffles endearingly, rubbing his cheek against the softness of the pillow like a cat as he blinks slowly.

"Hey, darlin’," Len whispers quietly, and Jim smiles lazily, still half asleep as he turns his head further into the pillow, shivers breaking out against his skin as Len slowly pets his back with gentle fingers.

"Hey, you," He says back, and his voice is sleep soft and sweet, sun hair ruffled and his lips swollen with the contentment sleep affords him. It isn’t often Jim sleeps like he did just, five hours of uninterrupted sleep; Jim usually sleeps in two intervals of two hours, and it’s always a treat when Jim sleeps through the night.

Len curls his fingers up the curve of the back, pressing delicately against the prominent ribs before tracing slowly over the ball of his shoulder, fingers curling into the sharp jaw and tilting Jim’s head up so they can kiss.

It’s slow and sweet, sleep still seeping into the air between them and it makes it lazy and chaste, tongues curling against each other as Jim blushes pink, mouths slick against each other as Len curls his fingers tighter against the sharp jut of Jims jaw and Jim presses upwards into Lens mouth, breath hitching as Len gently nips the swell of his bottom lip as he pulls away.

Jim is breathing heavily as he slowly strokes his fingers down the swell of Jim’s cheek, and Len smiles quietly as Jim leans shamelessly into the touch, still lying on the pillow as Len towers over him. 

He moves his hand from Jim’s cheek, nuzzling his nose into the ball of Jims shoulder as he gently presses Jim into the bed onto his stomach more firmly. 

"Bones?" He asks, but he’s pliant and meek with sleep.

"It’s okay, darlin’," Len whispers against the sharp shoulder blade, right over a cluster of freckles that paint Jim’s skin like the stars paint the night sky. 

It’s not very often Len can see Jim’s freckles, for such a confident man, Jim is surprisingly shy about his body outside of sex, and Jim had once confided into him that others had found the freckles  _ugly_  because of how many there was and how they were clustered, like constellations against the space of Jim’s skin. Len thought they were beautiful. 

"You should stop covering these up, Jimmy," He murmurs lowly into the pale flesh, flicking his tongue over the freckles and he feels when Jim realizes what he’s doing.

"Bones, what-," For all his protests, Jim doesn’t get up, just folds his arms beneath his numerous pillows and relaxes further into the soft bed and gently arching into Len’s slow ministrations. He smiles slowly against the press of flesh against his lips, his tongue curling out slowly to press against the marks, tasting the slight salt of sweat, Jim moaning sweetly as he feels the wet press of tongue against him, and Len slowly strokes a hand down the slim expanse of his slender back to rest in the large dip at the small of his back, his thumb resting just above a large cluster of freckles that Len knows is particularly sensitive to the touch.

“ _Bones_ ,” Jim whispers, soft and slow, as if the words take time to roll from his tongue and drape across his lips.

“I know, sweetheart,” He murmurs slowly, shifting further down the bed so he’s resting in the slim of Jims waist, an arm resting over it and curling into Jims side, as if in protection, an anchor.

“They’re ugly,” Jim says quietly, and Len’s stomach drops because here is the sun, here is the most beautiful person Len has ever seen, with the stars strewn across his flesh like they are across space and he believes they are ugly – because he’s been told they are ugly, that  _he_  is ugly.

He lowers himself to lap slowly at a groove between Jim’s ribs, right over a cluster of freckles that are packed around a long thick scar that Len knows comes from the slash of a dagger. He makes sure to clutch Jim to him around the waist and he slowly licks at it, the scar tissue smoother than actual flesh beneath his tongue, flicking over the bump of rib and the slickness of freckles. Jim gasps, back arching slightly with sensitivity, and he whimpers in his throat, high pitched and sweet.

“They’re not ugly, darlin’,” Len curls the words from his tongue, pressing it into the soft flesh beneath him as if he could tattoo it against Jims flesh. “They’re beautiful, and do you know why?”

He feathers his fingers down the prominent knobs of Jims sloping back, feeling the other shiver beneath his ministrations as he nipped gently at a scar just curving around the sharp of a shoulder blade.

“N-no,” Jim gasps, burying his head into the pillow but making sure he could still see the expanse of Len’s face, his eyes bright and beautiful.

“They’re beautiful, Jimmy,” He says, curling his tongue over a knob of the spine, before lowering, his mouth closing onto a large patch of freckles just two bones beneath that one. “Because they’re apart of you, and you’re the most damn beautiful thing I’ve ever laid on eyes on,”

“ _Bones_ ,” Jim whimpers, and Len smiles slowly against the press of spine on his mouth, tongue curling lower against another patch of freckles even as he slowly traces his fingertips over the large cluster of freckles just at the very small of Jims back, large and wonderful and Len doesn’t think he’s ever saw anything as beautiful as Jim laid out beneath him, tears in his eyes and whimpering.

“It’s true,” Len murmurs, shifting lower upon the bed as Jim gasps beneath his breath, fingers tightening over the pillow as Len murmurs inaudibly against a scar for a moment. “You’re so beautiful, so damn beautiful and you don’t even know it,”

A soft sob breaks free from Jims mouth, and it cracks something inside Len that yawns wider and wider as he sees the tears slowly drip down Jims cheek and it suddenly hits him  _why_ ; Jim has never believed he was beautiful, that he wasn’t _worthy_  of being loved because he was ugly, that he was  _worthless_ , that his body was but flesh and muscle that could be wasted with death. That has never rang true.

“And I want you to believe that,” He says, and it’s no longer about the marks Jim carries with him, it’s about his scars and his past and how he feels about himself, and he uses Jims freckles as a medium to get that message across. “You’re beautiful, truly, with your scars and your marks and I’ll cut down anyone who says you aren’t, because darlin’, you’re damn beautiful, you’re more beautiful than the damn skies and the stars, you shine brighter than the damn sun and I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone take your light from you,”

“ _Bones_ ,” Jim sobs, and it’s sweet and desperate, a hand venturing out from under the pillow to grasp clumsily at Lens hand. Len grasps it with his, and he feels Jim tugging at him, so he goes easily, and he allows himself to be tugged atop of Jim, covering him from the outside world and any threats to him. He brackets Jim easily, he’s broader than Jim, larger in the shoulders and waist, and he hides Jim easily, curling one of his arms around Jims head, so he can rest his head on Lens forearm before the other curves shamelessly around the thin slop of Jims waist, curling Jim into him as Jim quietly sobs, fisted hands clutching desperately at Lens bare chest.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” He murmurs into Jims ruffled hair, feeling for the covers and pulling them up to cover their heads, one of his broad hands spanning the expanse of Jims back as they cocoon themselves easily, the sun casting a light glow through the blankets.

“I’m sorry,” Jim whispers shamefully in the quietness that surrounds them. “I’m sorry I’m not good enough,”

“You stop that right now, James,” Len says, and he curls Jim deeper into his chest, burying his own face in Jims soft hair. “You’re damn good enough and you always will be, so don’t you be saying that now,”

He strokes his thumb down the long expanse of Jims back as Jim curls in on himself, pressing his tear stained face to Lens chest. “I love you,” Jim says quietly, hitching a thigh around Lens waist and drawing himself closer.

Len smiles softly into Jims hair, smoothing a hand up the thigh around his waist comfortingly as he presses a kiss to the sharp curve of Jims shoulder. “I love you too, darlin’,”


End file.
